Trivoli Community High School - Memoir Yearbook (Trivoli, IL)

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For the Honor of the School Shorty Watson hailed from a cotton plantation in southern Ala- bama. He had finished grammar school at the age of fourteen, from a little county school, located on his father's plantation. There being no high school within a radius of thirty miles, his father decided to send him to his brother's place, at Bloomington, Ohio. Shorty readily agreed, and to that end he was enrolled in Bloom- ington High School for the next S91'I16St61',S work. He liked it very well, but he made few friends because of his sullen disposition. He was called dead head because he never seemed interested in any sports or liter- ary work. Two years passed away in the same manner. Then came the spring of the third year, when it was time to start training for track work. Shorty's friend and pal, Jack Snider, was the best athlete in Blooming- ton High School. He was on the football and basketball teams, and was an excellent man on the cinders for distance running. Jack tried every way possible to get Shorty to try out for the track team, but his efforts were in vain. He argued, coaxed and threatened him, but Shorty always said he couldn't be of any use to the school. Sometimes he would watch the boys practice, and lol one night even he went in a suit to act as pace setter for Jack. They trotted around the track several times, and to Jack's surprise, Shorty stayed very close to him. This encouraged Jack very much, and he tried hard- er than ever to persuade his pal into practicing with him, but he could generally be found rowing on the river or sleeping in the shade of the trees when the other boys were hard at work on the track. One day late in May, Bloomington High School, to all appearances, was in a state of great excitement. What was up? Why, everyone knows, this is the day set aside for the track meet with Bloomington's greatest rival-Blackburn. The afternoon came at last, hot and sultry. Jack was at his best, and as he mady ready to go for the afternoon's work, he looked about for Shorty. But no signs of him were to be found. As Jack was making his way across the campus toward the cinder oval, he passed beneath the shade of a large elm tree and there came upon Shorty. He lay stretched out, sound asleep, and the perfect image of laziness. Jack woke him and made the inquiry: Aren't you coming to the track meet? Ho, hum! Nope, guess not, too darned hot, came the lazy reply, and he proceeded to stretch vigorously. Jack begged him to come, and finally he grabbed Shorty roughly by Page Thirty-eight

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- ------- --We ----------- the collar and fairly dragged him over to the dressing headquarters. Jack dressed and as he emerged from the dressing tent a shout went up from the amphitheatre. Shorty could be seen following closely behind, carrying a blanket for Jack to use between races. The first few events were successfully run off, but the most of the rooters were anxiously awaiting the Iinal event of the day, the mile run. Jack was to run the mile as well as the S80 yard and 220 hurdles. The 880 yard run was finished with Jack in the lead, making the score stand Bloomington 37, Blackburn 35. Then came the 220 hurdles. The ath- letes all took their places in the line, each awaiting the gun which was to start them. Finally the signal was given and the boys sped down the path, leaped the first row of hurdles, and were well on their way toward the goal. Jack led the way until the final hurdle was leaped, then he was seen to look Very pale, hop a short distance on one foot, and fall face downward upon the cinders. The other boys sped by him and Blackburn placed Iirst, with a Bloomington boy second. Jack was picked up and found to have a badly sprained ankle. He was given medical aid and a seat where he could watch the finish ofthe meet. It was indeed then that the faces of the Bloomington rooters wore rather a long, dismal look. One more event, the mile run, and their best and only runner out of the race with a sprained ankle. What was to be done? The score stood 40-all. Something must be done! It was then that the mind of Jack began to function properly. He crawled to Shorty's side and whispered in his ear. Listen, Shorty old man, won't you run in my place? Naw, came the reply, UI ain't in shape. But I know it's in you to go and win that race, Jack presisted, if you won't run for me, wonit you for the honor of your school? For the first time Shorty showed signs of interest. He sat up and thought, 'tFor the honor of the school. Those words were still ringing in his head. For the first time in his life he began to realize what that meant. The more he thought of it the more it hurt to think he was a slacker and at last he exclaimed: I'll do it. Jack hastily called the coach to his side and persuaded him to let Shorty run the race. Enough said. Shorty donned a suit about three sizes too big for him and appeared on the track. Only a very faint cheer sounded as the race started. No one had any hopes of winning that race with Jack out of it. There were but two people who had hopes- those were Jack and Shorty. Shorty trailed along behind, running flat-footed and eating all the dust stirred up by the fellows ahead of him. He remained thus for three laps, and when the final lap was started, he still was ten yards behind. Then, as he passed the amphitheatre, he heard one voice, that of Jack, call faintly to him: Page Thirty-nine